


A Church of Agony

by Continental



Category: Alkaline Trio (Band)
Genre: (Slight) Religious Imagery, Cheating, Imagery, M/M, Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-17 23:39:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15472653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Continental/pseuds/Continental
Summary: He knew what he wanted. It was setting flame to his very soul.“I never want to see that thing again, Danny. I never want to hear you say her name again.”





	A Church of Agony

Everything was burning.

The room, completely dark with the exception of the moonlight peeking in through the half-closed curtains, was humid. It was hard to breathe, the thickness of the air sticking in Dan’s throat and threatening to suffocate him more than the hand around his neck.

Touching the body on top of his was like sticking his hand on a hot stove, but he kept his hands on Derek’s sides and guided his hips in a vicious rhythm. 

Derek was burning from the inside out. Dan knew, because the heat around his cock was blinding, nearly painful, yet too pleasing to let go of. The comforter and sheets of the bed had long been thrown off in a fit of passion, and Dan was grateful, for any further covering would have driven him insane. 

His shirt was pushed up toward his clavicle and his chest was covered in an elaborate display of claw marks, but this was nothing new. Derek liked to scratch him up, watch him grimace and, sometimes, bleed. Dan didn’t have to wonder if it turned him on; the look on his face, blue eyes like crystals dilating at the sight of his pain, was always enough to tell. Sadist was a word he was increasingly familiar with.

They were, for the most part, clothed, with the exception of Derek’s pants and boxers lying beside the bedroom doorway. It happened in this fashion more often than not on these nights, when Dan would try to pull away from this obsession, until he inevitably broke down and called Derek and begged for his forgiveness and pleasure. Derek always accepted him with open arms, a loving smile, and a bedroom of worship. 

Because, in truth, that’s what it was; it was nothing but a place for Dan to scream out desperate prayers and sing vulgar praises.

Tonight was no different, until Derek’s hand grasped at something around Dan’s neck. He traced his fingers along the piece, mapping out the shape in the darkness, and gasped when he realized what it was.

His hips froze in their place, but before Dan could object, the jewelry was ripped from his neck, and dangled before his eyes.

“Danny… tell me… what is this?” 

His voice was smooth and angelic, as it always was, but there was an unnerving slowness to it that made Dan’s stomach twist violently into a knot.

He focused his eyes on the object as best as he could. He could just barely make out the shape of a locket, one that his girlfriend had given to him on his 21st birthday. He had forgotten to take it off before he left.

His heart pounded in his ears.

He stuttered, stumbling over his words, unable to form a coherent sentence. He could feel Derek’s eyes piercing into him. 

He felt the piece hit his chest.

“Danny. I thought you loved me?”

“Oh, God, Derek, I do.”

“Then why would you wear something so…” He sighed, disgusted. “Insulting?”

Dan thought he might cry if Derek continued in his disappointed tone, feeling as if he had just committed blasphemy of the most heinous type. He gripped at Derek’s hips, still fully engulfed in his heat, desperately searching for the words that would deliver him.

“I thought I told you to get rid of this thing, Danny?”

“You did,” he confessed. “You did, but I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry.”

Derek placed his palm against his chest, right over his heart, right over a tattoo of a cursed name, incredibly gentle compared to the touches that had left him bloodied. 

“I know you’re sorry, Danny. And I’ll let you make it up to me.” A hint of a smile rose in his voice. 

He held the locket in his hand.

“Poor, oblivious Sunshine… it’s a shame. I really like her.” The chain jingled as he twisted the jewelry in contemplation. “Everyone must pay for their sins, Danny. So now you choose.”

The locket was once again dangled an inch before his face.

“This piece of jewelry, your Sunshine… or me?”

Dan couldn’t think. His rationality had abandoned him, leaving him vulnerable and hopeless and possessed. He knew what he wanted. It was setting flame to his very soul.

“You. You, Derek, of course. It’s always you, it always will be.”

Dan winced when he heard the snapping of the chain as Derek tore the necklace apart. There was a violent crash as something, most possibly the pendant itself, hit the wall in the hallway.

“I never want to see that thing again, Danny. I never want to hear you say her name again.”

Delicate hands slid up his chest, feeling their way across his shoulders and wrapping around his neck as Derek began his pace once more. 

Dan’s nails dug into the flesh of Derek’s thighs. He climaxed without warning, his agony overcome by the blinding white heat of ecstasy. 

He wasn’t aware that he was crying until Derek’s hands were wiping away his tears.

“Don’t be upset,” he whispered, and Dan could see his smile even in the darkness. “I forgive you.”

He wrapped his arms around his neck, and Dan held him close and sobbed, words of gratitude pouring past his lips as he let himself be swallowed up in Derek’s hellfire. 

They lay side by side for what felt like an eternity, soft lips on Dan’s skin sending chills up his spine, only dragging him deeper into his own wonderful Hell. Dan searched his face, goosebumps rising on his flesh when their eyes met. 

“Do you have any idea what the hell you do to me?” 

The grin that formed on Derek’s face was nothing shy of demonic.

 

He retired to his apartment at 6 a.m., only to find Matt sitting on his couch. He was flipping through the channels on the Tv, and didn’t look up from the bowl of popcorn sitting between his legs. 

“About time. Where’ve you been?”

Dan caught a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror. His body was littered with traces of a man who was self-proclaimed Hell Incarnate, but the only visible evidence was the burn on the side of his neck, where a necklace chain had been dragged with enough force to tear the flesh. Dan touched it, flashes of pain pulsating beneath his fingertips.

Suddenly, there was euphoria. 

“Church.”


End file.
